Friday, February 19, 2010

Thought filled Friday

Many people do not get my fascination with old tattered and torn houses but there is just something about them that intrigues me.

Every time I see an old fallen down house, I wonder how it got that way. How did a once filled home turn to shambles? Its sad and lonely looking but some how there is beauty in it... the beauty of nostalgia.

There are many of these types of homes in our area. Most are seen only in the winter months when the foliage is no longer there to hide them. That alone mystifies me. They are mysterious places hidden among the trees and under brush. On the other side of the door, there are these still dark quiet rooms with walls that will forever hold the houses secrets.

The mystery calls to me.


*Song; Cat Stevens- Trouble


  1. Looking at this old house brought tears to my eyes because it looks so much like my grandparents home. When my grandmother passed away, about 15 years after my granddaddy, my aunt kept the house. She just didn't have the heart to sell it. My grandfather built part of that house, and it was there during the civil war. It was used then to protect soldiers, my grandparents raised a family there, by farming the land, and later was filled with grandchildren and many happy holidays. Now it sits empty, aged, and abandoned. When I see a house like this, I remember my childhood and the wonderful memories of my grandparents. That's what I see, when I see a house like in your picture. Which by the way, is very similar to my grandparents house. Thanks for taking me back there today. It was a sweet trip!

  2. I love hearing the history about your grandmothers home. Wow, could you imagine the changes those walls have seen!? That is incredible! There are some government grant programs out there that will fund the restoration of a civil war era home.... just some food for thought. ;)
    Back years ago my mom took me to the house that my grandmother was raised. It was in a very similar shape as this one... possibly worse. I remember looking at the old door knobs and imagining the many times my grandmother had turned those knobs. It was so quiet in there that my imagination took over. I pictured baked pies, children and dogs running through the house, laughter echoing in the halls. When it was finally time to go I felt like I had successfully stepped back into history. Every time I see an old house I take a picture of it, because it may not be there tomorrow. I suppose its my way of giving it a form of immortality.
    It is hard to let go of places that share a life time of memories but also reminds me of a the saying, "when you love something set it free".

  3. I like your blog a lot. We share a lot of similar feelings, ideologies, and you have GREAT taste in music. I love your chickens, your goats, everything. You're farther ahead than I am, or probably will ever be able to with the livestock, etc. bc my hubby does NOT share my ideas or love of gardening, sustainability, livestock, etc. so I do what I can, and try to make it enough. ANyway, just wanted to let you know I really enjoy reading through your blog posts.

  4. I understand the lure of old houses, I've had the attraction all my life. Like all old things, they are a tangible link to our past and to see them standing battered and forgotten pulls at my heartstrings. I can't pass an old,worn home without the desire to explore it further. I actually live in one of those once discarded relics. It took a of work to bring it back to life, but we did it. Thanks for the post and thanks for becoming an Honorary Rabbit Folk. Jeri

  5. I love old houses. Down at my grandparents there are several homes that are from the early 1800s, and as a kid we would sneak around and look at them. My grandparents would have been so mad if they knew that, lol.

    One thing that was a common theme among the houses, and your picture shows it as well, was simplicity. Something smart to strive for.

  6. Leigh,
    Houses like this always seem to leave an impression upon me with a whole host of questions buzzing around my mind (small space that it is), who lived there, what moments of pain and joy happened here, do spirits still cling to the rotting frames? As always another enjoyable and connecting post Leigh.

  7. I absolutely love ruins of any sort (or even half-ruins). Sometimes when I am out on a walk, I'll sit on a stump or whatever is handy and ruminate on who else might have sat on that stump.

    It's rather a heady experience.